Never Forget
by Queen Bookworm the First
Summary: The story of one boy, a boy who loses everything but keeps going. Discover the story of Viktor Krum. ONESHOT


**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Harry Potter.

Fairy Tales Challenge: Snow White

Prompt: Write about a runaway.

Optional prompts:

When You Come Back To Me Again (song)

. (picture)

Percy Jackson Characters Challenge: Daedalus

Prompt: Write about someone escaping death.

If You Dare Challenge: spitting image

Drabble Club: hope (word)

Quidditch Pitch: carmine (word)

Cinema Competition II: The Perfect Storm

Prompt: Write about a death.

* * *

Svetla hugs him, rubbing his back soothingly. "Don't cry, Mastilo."

Mastilo looks up at her, meeting her watery blue eyes. Blue eyes that belong to a girl who is the spitting image of his mother, who will never come back.

* * *

"Maĭka, I hear something," Mastilo says, running up to his mother. She reaches down and ruffles his hair, managing a small smile.

"I'm sure it's nothing, Mastilo. Go to sleep," Tsvete says. She picks the four-year-old up and carries him to the bed. Setting him down, she pulls a blanket over him. "Sleep, Mastilo."

"I can't sleep, Maĭka," he whines. He gets up once again. "I'm bored."

"Mastilo, you haff to sleep. You vill be tired if you don't."

"Maĭka…"

"I said sleep, Mastilo."

"I don't vant to!"

"Quiet, Mastilo! Your sister is trying to sleep!" Tsvete says, pushing his back.

"Maĭka, you know I am not sleeping," a voice calls. Svetla walks in, tossing her black hair over her shoulder. She is tall for her age, too tall for a twelve-year-old.

"Svetla, I vant you to sleep, too. I know how tired you are."

"Maĭka, I'm fine. _You_ haff to sleep. You haven't slept properly in three days." At this, she throws a glare at Mastilo. "A certain someone has been keeping you avake."

"Svetla!" Mastilo says, pouting.

"Come vith me, Mastilo. Don't disturb Maĭka." Svetla lifts Mastilo into her arms.

"Svetla, you don't haff to…" Tsvete trails off when she see the look on her daughter's face.

"Get some sleep, Maĭka." With that, she walks out of the bedroom.

Tsvete settles onto the bed, letting her head drop to the pillow. Being on the run is tiring.

She almost slips into sleep when she hears a bang. She jumps up and runs out.

* * *

Svetla set Mastilo down on the couch, sitting next to him. "Mastilo."

"Vill Maĭka be angry at me?" he asks, his bottom lip trembling.

Svelta chuckles. "Maĭka can't get angry at you." She smiles as Mastilo's face lights up.

For once, it seems like everything will be alright. Mastilo wants to forget that they are on the run. He wants to pretend that this is their home, and that they can be happy.

Suddenly, a bang sounds, making them flinch. _No._

* * *

Tsvete still remembers that same bang from two years ago. The one that heralded the death of her Kopie and her father-in-law. The bang that told them that Grindelwald's troops had arrived.

She remembers how the blood streamed from Kopie's throat, the stillness of his body, the way his eyes had dimmed. How he had held her hand in his and told her to keep their children safe, to protect them from the horrors of the world outside.

 _She would_ not _fail._

* * *

Tsvete pulls Svelta and Mastilo to her. Mastilo looks like he will cry any moment. His black eyes are wide and brimming with tears.

"You haff to be quiet," she whispers. She hugs Mastilo and lifts him into her arms.

"Maĭka, vhere vill ve go?" Svetle asked.

"I don't know, Svetla. Come. Ve must get out." They rushed to the back door. Mastilo stared out the dark woods ahead of them, shuddering as he studied the tall, dark green trees.

"Ve haff to go in there?" Mastilo points at the woods, looking up at his Maĭka.

Tsvete grabs a bag full of supplies and waves her wand. The bag shrinks until she can fit it in her pocket. "Yes, Mastilo, ve haff to go in the voods."

"It's scary."

"Svelta and I vill be vith you. You vill be fine. Now, let us go. They cannot catch us."

"Don't vorry, Mastilo. Maĭka will keep us safe," Svelta says, ruffling Mastilo's hair.

 _I hope I can,_ Tsvete thinks.

They hear a large boom from outside the door. "Run!" Tsvete says. She tugs on Svetla's arm and they break into a sprint. It is hard for them to run through the snow.

Mastilo can see glass shattering as the door bursts open, knocking over a vase. He desperately tries to fight the tears that brim in his eyes.

"There they are! Get them!" a man shouts, raising his wand. He fires a curse at them, a streak of green light that narrowly misses Mastilo's head.

"For Grindelwald!" another man says.

"I thought Grindelvald vas defeated," Tsvete mutters as she runs. The men fire more curses at them, none of them actually hitting her—though, they did slow her down.

They run into the woods and dive into a cave curtained by brambles. Tsvete hands Mastilo to Svetla along with the bag. "I vill go and see if ve are safe now. If you hear something, Svetla, take Mastilo and run."

"But vhat about you, Maĭka?" Svetla asks.

"Do not vorry about me. I vill meet you at the vaterfall. You know vhere that is, yes?" Tsvete says, hugging her daughter.

"Yes, Maĭka."

"Go there. Ve vill be safe there."

"Very vell, Maĭka." Svetla grabs her mother's arm before she leaves. "But, please, Maĭka, stay safe."

"I love you, Svetla," Tsvete says, ignoring her last plea. She bends down and kisses the top of Mastilo's head. "I love you, Mastilo."

"I love you, Maĭka," the two children say. They kiss their mother's cheek and watch with blurry eyes as she ducks out.

"Vill Maĭka come back?" Mastilo asks, staring up at his sister.

"Of course she vill," Svetle says, wiping her eyes hastily.

They sit in silence, hidden behind the brambles. Suddenly, a scream pierces the air, shattering all thoughts of peace. Svetla jumps up, lifts Mastilo up into her arms, and slings the bag over her shoulder.

She takes off running again, trying to ignore the screams behind her. Mastilo is crying softly. She tightens her hold on him.

Finally, she reaches the waterfall. She breathes heavily, calming her racing heart, and sets Mastilo down. Water drips down on them, running in trickles down their face.

Svetla cups her hands and scoops up some water, drinking it quickly before it can drop. It is freezing and chills her dry throat.

"Vhen vill Maĭka come?" Mastilo asks. His lip is trembling, but he has stopped crying.

Svetla hugs him, savoring his warmth. "Ve vill vait for Maĭka."

* * *

They wait.

One day. _She didn't come._

Two days. _She didn't come._

Three days. _She didn't come._

And now they still sit waiting for their Maĭka to come, to hug them and shower them with kisses. To tell them that everything was alright. _But she never comes._

They live off the scraps of food in the bag, barely enough to satisfy their hunger. But they must stay. For their Maĭka.

* * *

It has been five days now. And Tsvete has not come.

Svetla stands up. "Ve should leave."

"But Maĭka!" Mastilo says.

"No, Mastilo. I don't think- I don't think Maĭka vill come," Svetla says, her bottom lip trembling.

Mastilo starts crying. "But I vant Maĭka!"

Tears brim Svetla's eyes. "I vant Maĭka, too. But she is gone, Mastilo. Ve must move on. It is vhat she vould vant us to do."

"I miss her," Mastilo says, and he throws himself into Svetla's open arms.

Svetla wipes her tears away. "Come on. Ve must be strong for Maĭka."

 _On a prayer, in a song_

 _I hear your voice and_

 _It keeps me hanging on_

 _Raining down_

 _Against the wind_

 _I'm reaching out till_

 _We reach the circle's end_

 _When you come_

 _Back to me again_

* * *

The echoes of their Maĭka's love for them, her words, keep them going. Surviving. Trying. Hoping.

Six years they survive together.

* * *

A year later, Svetla is killed in a raid at the inn they were staying in.

Mastilo stares at her dead body, running his hands through her hair. Her blue eyes are wide open, devoid of any life that once filled them. Her clothes are torn and stained carmine.

A strangled sob escapes Mastilo's throat. Then the tears flow.

 _Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop._ The tears fall down, absorbed by the dirt. Gone just as quickly as they came.

The image of the knife slashing across Svetla's neck, leaving a thin, red smile, is imprinted in Mastilo's memory. It will haunt him till the day he dies.

He has no one now. No family. No identity. He is just the boy no one knows, the boy who lost everything.

"I vill no longer be Mastilo Kopie Rysinov," he says, breaking the silence. He places a final kiss on Svetla's cheek and stands up.

"I am Viktor Svetla Krum." His mother's maiden name: Krum. Tsvete Krum and Svetla will be in his memory forever..

He will never forget them.

 _On a prayer, in a song_

 _I hear your voice and_

 _It keeps me hanging on_

 _Raining down_

 _Against the wind_

 _I'm reaching out till_

 _We reach the circle's end_

 _When you come_

 _Back to me again_

Their love will keep him going.

 _He will never forget._


End file.
